Chapter 117: Seek Out Your Third Uncle

This person… seemed to be surrounded by a mist that left her utterly confused. It was as if his talents were mediocre, yet somehow not quite so—there was an air of profound mystery about him.

“Why keep bringing up those matters? He’s gone now; just remember that and don’t mention it without reason. Jianhua barely managed to get out—don’t make things worse,” the old general grumbled in a low, weary voice.

Still, she chose to speak in Chen Kuan’s defense, solely because the one who had come to her was Chen Ze Chen Pei, a childhood friend and schoolmate.

“It’s nothing major, just something I think we could cooperate on,” Shen Yu said slowly, deliberately.

The elderly man, awakened by Doctor Liu, was clearly terrified. As soon as his eyes opened, he began struggling and shouting wildly.

Zhao Zheng, being a man from the future, actually felt sympathy for people like Zhang Kui. Though he now bore the identity of Ying Zheng, he knew his veins ran with the blood of Handan and Zhao—thus, he harbored feelings for Zhang Kui and did not wish to strike him down mercilessly.

Thanks to a complete national defense industrial system, the enemy’s joint naval and air forces gained no advantage. Ultimately, the largest and most brutal aerial “dogfight” involving stealth aircraft in history erupted!

Afang broke free from Zhao Ji’s grasp, hurried a few steps, then grabbed Zhao Zheng’s hand and led him deeper into a corner of the room. “Sister Fang, what’s this about?” Zhao Zheng asked in surprise.

“It’s nothing. I just seemed to have slept for a while, and when I woke, I saw you,” Lin Yuner said softly.

“Yes, yes, sit down first and then we’ll talk,” Chi Zhong and the others nearby volunteered to ease the tension.

Shui Mengyun stood beside Chu Han, her beautiful eyes fixed on him, shimmering with a unique brilliance.

Chu Han’s entire body emitted a reddish-golden glow, his feet crackling with lightning as he dodged back and forth amidst a barrage of attacks.

Yan Xixi turned to look at him; his robe, tinted with a watery blue, gleamed faintly under the moonlight.

After a nap, Su Hui’s spirits were greatly revived. Before long, her senior brothers had arrived.

Han Tianyao raised an eyebrow in surprise. A glint flashed through her calm eyes, and the sharp angles of her cheeks softened considerably.

Several dozen silver needles, upon touching the spiritual energy swirling around Long Mu’s body, bent and snapped as though striking solid metal, scattering to the ground.

Only then could Wen Heng break free from their hold, resisting and resolutely departing.

Su Hui herself didn’t know how she had survived. Though it had been only one night, she lay bedridden for half a month before she could rise, her limbs weak and her body like limp noodles. By the time she fully recovered, another month had already passed.

Finally, Tang Zechen could no longer bear the maddening sweetness before him. Tossing aside his pillow, he shouted angrily at the two.

Fang Qinghuan was about to explain that she too had been saved by Gong Jingxing and hoped he wouldn’t take it to heart, but then she met his cold, piercing gaze.

“Of course not. Old man here has already succeeded halfway!” Mo Fan’s eyes shone with excitement. After so much hard work, he was finally seeing some results.

She didn’t look back at Gong Jingxing. Like when she and Han Jiayin teamed up on missions, she hurriedly chambered her weapon, her movements flowing like water. Coupled with her graceful figure, she exuded a unique charm.

Soon after, Mo Liang’s figure darted constantly across the arena, while Liu Caoqing bounced around like a ball.

Even if I truly liked Luo Ying, given Luo Jia’ao’s deep-seated fear of her, I doubt he would feel the same way.

“Are you all going out too? Isn’t it forbidden to tell them…” The assistant, seeing Liu Mei lead the charge with other special forces following, quickly tried to stop them, speaking nervously.

They had already gone far when they faintly heard Xiahou Leer’s clear, melodious laughter, like a yellow warbler emerging from a valley.

“Isn’t it enough? Flowers, rings—you still want what more?” Long Xiao, who had lived so long, was doing something humiliating for the first time for her sake. Making so many exceptions, he felt he had done more than enough.

Ghost Flow Dao’s ears throbbed painfully from the piercing scream of Ghost Flow Xiu. Thinking quickly, he swung his left sleeve sharply, striking Ghost Flow Xiu’s chest and sending her flying several yards. Using the momentum, he backed away a few paces just as a flash of red light streaked past him—vanishing instantly.

The cabin was in chaos; the sounds of punches and kicks echoed. The turmoil grew, and faint cries of anguish could be heard. Even the cloud ship could not withstand the commotion—its hull shook repeatedly.

His arm had not fully been thrown out before his body faltered slightly, for at that moment, a figure grasped his arm.

On stage, Hei Ze was kicked by a panda. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. Though slightly injured, it was not serious.

Zi Mo had anticipated something but never imagined he would end up sleeping rough on the streets with a captain of a hundred troops.

“That old Taoist is so formidable—could he really be fooled by an illusion?” Su Yang stroked his chin, curious.

Long Xian’er frowned deeply, her eyes locked on Ni Duoshi. At this moment, she only wished for Ni Duoshi’s training to end quickly so she could escape the Empty Buddha Temple. As for the few stinky monks before her, she paid them no mind.

The two guarded the meditation chamber for nearly five hours before Ji Deshou finally stirred, groaning, “It hurts terribly!” Then he sat up, his eyes vacant, staring ahead.

Yang You was still a child. He had always relied on Wei Xuan, but now that Wei Xuan had changed, he lost his anchor, became confused and fearful, and eventually broke down into tears.